Rescuing the Royal Runaway Bride

by Ally Blake

  It wasn’t Clair’s death that had ripped their friendship apart. It was Will’s anger. His grief. The fact that he’d been eviscerated. The next couple of years were a wretched blur. Until he woke up again in that astronomy lecture, and never looked back.

  Never truly faced his grief. Never truly let go.

  “Whatever did happen to Clair?” Sadie asked. “Why isn’t she here? Too heartbroken over the one that got away?”

  Will’s gaze shot to Hugo to find the Prince looking deep into his beer. Come on, Hugo, give me a hand here. Hugo took a long, slow swig, but refused to look Will’s way.

  It seemed Will would have to find the words after all. “She fell ill.”

  “Oh, poor thing.”

  “No... I mean, years ago. Clair died not long after that summer.”

  Sadie’s hand went to her mouth as she rose to her knees, her gaze zapping between the men. “No. I can’t believe it.”

  Will nodded.

  “I’m so sorry, Will, I had no idea. And there I was, fluffing on about ridiculous impressions and how gaga we were over her.”

  “It’s okay,” Will said, surprised to find he meant it. “It was actually good to hear. To think of her having a good time.”

  Sadie looked into his eyes, deep, searching, demanding honesty. “How did she die?”

  “Sadie,” said Hugo, speaking up for the first time.

  “If Will doesn’t want to talk about it he’ll tell me. You on the other hand don’t get to weigh in here because this is all news to me and that is your fault. What happened?”

  Will twisted his knuckles, easing out the tension, and soon found himself saying, “It started with memory loss. Personality changes. Depression. You met her, she was...sunny. When we’d all gone back to school I started receiving letters in which she sounded anxious, aggrieved. I figured she must have fought with Hugo even though he denied it. I asked my school to allow me to check in. As a known truant they refused me, so I begged my grandmother to intervene. My grandmother was not moved. It wasn’t until the first seizure that anyone else thought anything was wrong. By the time they had Clair in hospital her speech was impaired, her balance dysfunctional. Pneumonia hit three weeks later. And then she was gone.” Will’s voice didn’t feel like his own. It felt a hundred years old. “I had not seen her in person since I broke my leg.”

  “Since Vallemont?”

  “That’s right.” Out of the corner of his eye Will saw Hugo shift in his seat.

  “Is it hereditary?” Sadie asked.

  A note of concern in her voice had Will lifting his eyes. “No. It was the spontaneous misfolding of a protein. Nothing anyone could have done.”

  “So, you’re okay?”

  “I’m okay.”

  “Okay, then.” Her eyes caught the reflection of the fire as she turned on Hugo. “Alessandro Hugo Giordano, what were you thinking in not telling me?”

  Hugo refused to answer and Sadie rocked back onto her feet and stood. “I’m sorry to hear about your sister, Will. But I can’t look at him right now. I need a moment.”

  And with a withering look sent Hugo’s way, she went. The creak of the French windows opening was followed by a stream of chilly air.

  “That went well,” said the Prince.

  “Oh, hello,” said Will, grabbing his beer once more. “You’ve been so quiet I’d forgotten you were here.”

  “Nowhere else in the world I’d rather be.”

  “I vote for the Bahamas.”

  Hugo raised his beer. Will gave it a clink. And together they drank. Unlike the beers they’d secreted during not-so-secret parties their American dorm-mate used to host in his room after hours, this felt more like a wake. A toast. To Clair.

  The girl they’d both loved. The girl they both missed. And just like that Will felt as if a weight that had rested on his shoulders for years lifted.

  Hugo shifted. Cleared his throat. And changed the subject. “So, Will, how’s life been treating you these last million years?”

  “Can’t complain.”

  “My mother showed me an article about you in a magazine a month or so back. Which one was it?”

  “Time? New Yorker? American Scientist?” He could have named dozens.

  Hugo clicked his fingers. “Top Twenty: sexiest living scientists issue. I particularly liked the ‘living’ addendum. Clearly if they’d opened up the field to intellectuals of eras past you wouldn’t have stood a chance.”

  Will’s laughter now came without restraint. No one in his life today had known him before he was someone. Before the university awards, the publishing deal, the infamy in his field. No one in his life had known him as a troubled kid with an incorrigible twin sister he’d loved more than anything.

  But he was that kid. He’d had that sister. Pressing it deep down inside, never to be talked about, had not made it go away. Did not make it hurt any less. It only made it fester.

  Time to let in a little sunshine. Time to heal.

  “So how do you like my Leo?” Hugo asked.

  And as if he couldn’t stop himself now, Will laughed again. “I like her just fine.”

  “Really? Because every time you look at her you roll your shoulders as if trying to shake her off. She’s under your skin, my friend.”

  Will’s gaze slid to the open French window. Like a moth to the flame. “Stick anyone in a room with her for twenty-four hours and she’d get under their skin.”

  “And that’s the truth. She had a hard beginning to things, you know. Father left her and her mother on the side of the road the day she was born.”

  Will ran a hand up the back of his neck. “Hell.”

  “Could have been. Marguerite found them and took them in. The entire country adopted her as their own. It would be difficult to find one’s feet under so many watchful eyes. I’ve handled it by creating a life, a purpose, separate from the renown. She handled it by being the sweet, funny, happy, grateful kid she thought everyone expected her to be.”

  Hugo rested a finger over his mouth.

  “She’s the one person in my life I can trust to call me on my bullshit. And I care for her more than I care for anyone. But I also clearly misread her. What she must have suffered—to go through with my plan for this long and then run. I know she is determined to take the blame, but this is entirely my fault. She’ll forgive me when she finally realises it—she’s all heart. But I’m not sure I’ll ever forgive myself.”

  Will knew Hugo wasn’t looking for a response, merely a listening ear. So he listened. He heard. And he tried with all his might not to let it colour his feelings for Sadie. They were convoluted enough as it was without adding pathos to her tale. She had a sweet, determined kind of dauntlessness. But it was best to remember her as an unexpected variance in his life’s path. And nothing more.

  “Anyway.” Hugo pulled himself to standing and Will did the same. “I’ll just make a quick stop and then it’s time for us to leave.”

  Hugo reached out a hand. Will took it.

  The Prince tipped his head. “Thank you for stepping up in my stead, old friend. She couldn’t have landed in better hands.”

  Will’s gut clenched, looking for signs Hugo meant the words in a way other than how they appeared. But he seemed only grateful.

  Will nodded. “I’m glad I could be of help.”

  Hugo let go, patted Will on the shoulder, then jogged towards the bathroom. The moment his friend was out of sight, Will turned his gaze east. Towards sunset. Towards night. Towards the stars.

  Towards the open French window and goodbye.

  * * *

  Sadie looked up into the sky. The first stars had begun to twinkle high above her, the deep red sunset over the mountains masked the rest. The small village below was even quieter than the evening before. As if everyone had simply gone on with their lives.


  She breathed in long and hard as her mind flipped through memories of Clair, her breath shaky as she let it go. It was silly really, feeling so bereft about a girl she’d known for a few weeks so long ago. She could barely even remember what she looked like apart from dark wavy hair. A quick smile. Bright, mischievous eyes.

  When Hugo had come back from school at the end of that next year, and not mentioned her again, she’d assumed they had drifted apart. And, knowing Hugo as she did, she’d let it go. All the while he must have been in such pain.

  And to think that warm, funny girl was cool, clever Will’s sister. His twin sister, no less. How must losing her have affected him? He’d been, what? Sixteen? Seventeen?

  Sadie felt swamped. Off kilter. As if everything she thought she knew about Will had shifted just a fraction to the right. Where there was a two-dimensional thorn in her side, now there was warmth, sorrow, angles, depth, adding rabid curiosity to what had been, up until that point, rabid physical attraction.

  None of which mattered a jot.

  Hugo was here.

  She was leaving with him.

  Will would...do whatever it was Will did with his time wherever in the world he did it. The fact that she couldn’t quite imagine what that might look like made her feel even worse.

  She gripped the railing hard. The air had turned so bitterly cold it felt as though it might even snow.

  Her breath hitched before she even knew why. And she turned to find Will stepping over the threshold and onto the balcony.

  She gave him a small smile. He gave her one back. Then he moved to stand beside her, his hands gripping the freezing cold railing mere inches from hers. But not touching. Things unsaid swirling about them like a storm.

  “Time to go?” she asked.

  Will nodded.

  “But where?” she said. “That is the question.”

  “Home?”

  “I’m not sure where that is any more.”

  “Not a bad thing in my experience. Where would you like to go now you have the chance?”

  “I have no idea. I truly hadn’t let myself think past yesterday. Not to the honeymoon, or to my new living quarters, or to how I was going to get my job back. I think, deep down, I was sure someone would call us out, that it would never actually happen.” She shook her head. Old news. The future was now. “Anyway, I should... I was going to say pack, but I have nothing. No home, no prince, no job. Just me.”

  “Sounds like you have plenty.”

  At the note in Will’s voice—husky and raw—Sadie’s eyes swept to the man beside her. The dark curls, the strong face, those profoundly deep eyes—he looked like some Byronic hero. He looked...so beautifully tragic, her entire body began to unfurl. To reach for him. To ease his aches and pains. And, yes, her own.

  How had she come to be so used to having him in her life? It had been a day and a half, for Pete’s sake. How had she become so attuned to the subtlety of his movements, his expressions, his breaths? So responsive to the quiet questions in his eyes?

  She closed herself back in, crossing both arms over her chest. “Thank you, Will. For the tracksuit, for the bed, for putting up with me.”

  “I won’t say it’s been my pleasure—”

  She smiled, as she was meant to do.

  “But it has been educational.”

  Sadie reached out, laid her hand on Will’s arm. “From a smart guy like you I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “From a generous spirit like yours, I wouldn’t expect anything different.”

  Sadie should have let go. Instead she stepped forward, tipped up onto her toes and pressed her lips to Will’s cheek.

  Even as it happened she knew she would never forget the scent of him—soap and heat and man. Or the warmth of his body, enveloping hers. The scrape of his stubble against her lips. Or the telling shiver that rocketed down his arm and into her hand. Like a perfect circuit.

  When she pulled away, her heart was clanging in her chest. Breaths were difficult to come by. The intensity in his eyes was nothing like she’d felt in her entire life.

  And once again the spell was broken by a knock at the door.

  Shaking her head, literally, she landed back on her heels. Then she took a step towards the room. “Did Hugo go out?”

  But Will put a hand over the door, protecting her. “No. Wait here.”

  She didn’t wait, she followed. He might harbour a protective streak a mile wide, but she could look after herself. To find Hugo was already at the door, eye at the peephole.

  He opened the door with a flourish to reveal Prospero filling the doorway.

  “Prospero,” said Hugo. “Excellent timing. We’re ready to—”

  The big man held out his phone. “Your Highness.”

  Hugo winced. “For the hundredth time, it’s Hugo, please.”

  The big man’s expression didn’t falter. “Your Highness, you need to see this.”

  “Fine.” Hugo took the phone, his expression blank. Until it wasn’t. His brow furrowed, his mouth thinned. He seemed to grow out of his shoes until he looked for all the world a king. His voice was sharp as he demanded, “Where did you find this?”

  “Internet alerts,” said Prospero. “Any hint of a news article about you comes into my phone. I need to be prepared.” The big man’s throat worked ever so slightly, the only sign he was in any way concerned. “I blame myself. They must have followed us from the palace. I have failed you at the first sign of trouble. I will resign the moment I get you to safety.”

  Hugo gave him a look. “You’re not quitting. I’ve only just got used to having you around. And it looks like I’m going to need you tonight.”

  When Will stepped forward, Sadie realised she’d been tucked in behind him, taking his protection for granted. She moved past him and tugged on Hugo’s sleeve. “What is it? What’s going on?”

  Hugo glanced over her shoulder at Will.

  Sadie took Hugo by his royal chin and forced him to look at her. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Prospero move in. To the big bald man she said, “Back away.” To Hugo, “And you. Tell me what’s going on. Right now.”

  Hugo gave over his phone.

  Sadie recognised the website. It was the kind that traded in online gossip, most of it made up. All salacious. Whatever their opinion on the wedding upset, no one would take it seriously, surely.

  And then she saw the art.

  There was Hugo walking into a building. Crumbling brick. Bougainvillaea. A swing sign with a tulip carved into the wood.

  She looked up at Hugo. “That’s you. Walking in here. This afternoon.”

  “Keep going.”

  Finger shaking now, she scanned down. Her hand moved to cover her mouth as she saw the worst of it.

  More pictures. This time it was later, darker. The shots angled up at the Tower Room balcony. Some images weren’t even in focus but every one of them was all too clear.

  Picture after picture of Sadie and Will. Hands an inch apart as they held the railing. Looking into one another’s eyes.

  Sadie’s throat tightened as she madly scanned through the lot. Thankfully the pictures stopped before she had taken Will by the arm. Leaned in. Kissed him.

  Small mercy. For under each picture the banner read, “Prince Alessandro busts Lady Sadie with new lover in secret village pad.”

  She’d known the balcony wasn’t secure. The entire village was spread out below with its houses and shops and bars. Will’s self-sabotage theory grew roots and shoots and twisted around her like a creeping vine.

  “Hugo, we were just talking.” That was Will, looking over Sadie’s shoulder as she slowly scrolled back.

  “I know,” said Hugo.

  “I mean, it was right now. Just happened. Look at the clothes. The angle of the shadows—”

  �
�Will, I know. I trust you weren’t just romancing Leo on the balcony like something from one of her plays. It’s okay.”

  Head swimming, tummy tumbling, Sadie shoved the phone at Hugo before it burned her hand, clueless as to whether to apologise or smack him.

  She turned to Prospero, ready to flay him for bringing the press here, but the big guy looked so desperately disgraced that in another place, another era, he might have popped an arsenic tablet and been done with it.

  She looked around the room for answers. It really was a sweet room. If one had to get stuck somewhere for any length of time it was a wonderful choice. She’d miss it. Or maybe it was the simplicity. The time to do nothing but reflect on the life choices she’d made. The company...

  It didn’t matter. For now it was time to go.

  Hugo broke into her reverie. “Will, what’s your plan?”

  “London.”

  “Take her with you.”

  In the gap left by Will’s revealing silence, Sadie said, “Am I the her in this situation?”

  Her eyes flickered between theirs. Hugo had gone full prince—looking down his nose imperiously, as if he was about to bestow a knighthood. While Will was pulling his statue move. These men...

  “Will can’t just take me with him. He works. He has a life.” Sadie realised she wasn’t sure what that entailed. Despite the intensity of the past couple of days, she didn’t really know the man at all. “Tell him, Will.”

  But Will was watching Hugo, the two men having some kind of psychic Man Conversation of which she was no part.

  Sadie looked to Prospero for help. “Prospero, tell them they’re overreacting.”

  Anguish passed over Prospero’s face. “Sorry, m’lady. But His Highness is right. The sooner you are gone, the easier it is for me to protect the Prince. It’s best.”

  Sadie threw her hands in the air. “‘It’s best’? It’s best is how we got into this mess in the first place!”

  Knowing the barb was meant for him, Hugo finally looked at her. She took her chance. “If Will and I are seen together, leaving the country no less, those pictures will take on loaded meaning where right now there is nothing but two separate, uninvolved people on a balcony. Chatting. About...stuff.”